


Our Lucid Cloud World

by urietwat



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urietwat/pseuds/urietwat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Panic! At The Disco broken up Ryan  keeps trying to assure Brendon that everything will be fine. But, soon things become distant and now their relationship seems like a far away dream. With Ryan and Jon creating the band "The Young Veins" Brendon and Spencer start to develop Panic's! third official album. Although as distant as they seem Ryan always finds a way to remind Brendon of their time as a couple, by a simple phone call about the most outrageous and aimless things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Lucid Cloud World

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is my very first story pretty much and also my first fanfic. don't judge me too critical on the level of immaturity of my words and stuff pls. any kind of feedback is appreciated. even rude idc at least you showed interest in it c;  
> i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it~  
> thank.
> 
> ps: if any spelling mistakes appear pls tell me i suck at putting my sentences down coherently.
> 
> edit: this is now not the first chapter but more of a prologue.

**Prologue**

“Like a feather tied to a string, we are oh so delicate. We’ll help keep each other together, but so easily we can fall apart.” –Paige Noel. 

"I can't do this anymore...” he stated in his smooth monotone voice.   I always hated how he talked in that lovely voice of his that always somehow, even after this whole time, tugged at my heartstrings. I love how his lips move in a steady rhythm forming into his words, his voice flowing clinging in the air. Occasionally the sweet warmth of his breath would tickle my sensitive skin below my jaw line whenever we were tangled under his sheets. But, how could he say that unthinkable sentence using that wonderful voice? The sound from his moist lips caused a dull ache in my chest,yet he said this, knowing he all too well how delicate my heart was.

  "It isn't working anymore, I'm sorry... I just," he breathed in a somber rush of air then exhaled into his lap, eyes downward on his fidgety hands and then starts where he left off. "I just can't take all of this angst...I think we should part our ways, I-I think it's time, Brendon, that Jon and I part ways and do what we've been wanting to do." 

  Sitting on his couch consumed of that of his pale yellow walls, not knowing what to say I study his walls instead. As I catch my tears peppering my cheeks he takes notice; his lips show a small frown as he furrows his forehead. I inhale the sweet aroma of his house, always hating the endless amounts the stupid sunflowers inhabiting his front yard among countless other flowers I never remember the names of. I'm sure Ryan has told me a million times but, I never listened, always distracted by his beautiful features or admiring how his calloused fingers would always fit right in between mine. I sucked in a heavy breath again; making sure it was audible this time.  

His walls were decorated with numerous pictures of The Beatles, being as he was infatuated with them, always adding to his collection with every visit to our local record store, Rock Haven. Accompanying his battered and exhausted record player stood the earth toned coffee table beside the entrance that populated all of our memories; these candid photos perpetually seemed to capture our relationship in the purest form.

Anguish consumes my being...This is it. The end of our friendship, our relationship and everything else we are, were. He untangled his fidgety hands, plants his head in the crook of my neck pressing his sweet breath caressing my calescent neck as his breath makes its way to my my jawline. I sigh again, tired of this confrontation, stroking the small of his back. He really means so much to me and yet he throws it out the window like nothing. Jerk. We would lie on your bed, admiring what we've done, nuzzling in each other’s sweaty bodies, enjoying our warmth. But you'd always leave too early, forgetting that I had feelings and I'd lie on your bed having your sweet scent linger in the air, naked, and vulnerable.  

"We aren't going to drift apart. This isn't me breaking up with you,” nuzzling his head burying his face into my hair that has long since forgotten and has grown extraordinarily longer than I usually have it. "And stop with all this sighing, it is really getting on my nerves."  

Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you. I groan at the flashbacks of hasty retreats to our hotel where we frantically and practically running to our hotel, almost tripping over our lanky limbs.   Pushing ourselves out of a gig we just played in Chicago I already planted kisses fervently upon his exquisite lips, ever so often pulling away for breath, just to smash his exquisite, swollen lips against my own. Our impetuous routine stumbled our feet to the hotel, just across the way, in a heap of sloppy kisses, too drunken for my lips to ever meet his matching, swollen, red ones. 

_Our sweaty bodies were sweaty meshing and melting into each other, as I try to keep balance to not fall on my fucking face. As one, our soaked bodies of the pungent smell of beer and utterly drenched clothing finally arrive at the dingy hotel. Feeling my way to the bed I almost trip to shove down my sticky jeans off and with a large plop sound against the stained carpet that was riddled with my shirt and among other things I was wearing apathetically in array, soon joined by his belongings._

_I collapse on the bed atop of him as a quiet whimper escapes the bed, making sure I don't crush his fragile figure I admired his half naked body. I kiss his slick, salty skin feeling how overpowering his scent of booze mingling with cologne made me feel. I straddle his hips moving mine in a slow rhythmic pattern against his, producing friction._

_Slowly I make my way down his lean figure with my lips, starting from his piquant lips, to his ears as I nip at them playfully, fluttering loving phrases as I brush my fingers along his slightly protruding ridges across his back. Aware of his frame trembling with arousal, contributed by a moan that escaped his lips I look up, immediately perceptive of the fact that he was trying to hold back his moans by biting his lip, although, completely engaged on what I was doing to be successful._

_Moving to his abdomen I meet my lips against his lower, trailing wet clumsy kisses working down to the creamy complexion of his thighs. Brushing my lower lip along the length of his inner thigh; I place light, affectionate, kisses paired with occasional nibbling, marking him only mine. The clash of blues and purples with the ivory color of his upper leg made them prominent. I graze my finger tips along the row of blue and purple bruises I made, a smile appearing on my face, satisfied._

If only we could go back to when were madly in love, or so I thought, and forget this horrible nightmare.   My eyes start to become heavy with tears struggling to break, so I look out the window distracting myself from the obvious pain in my chest. It was a normal day, completely oblivious of the fact that, I am, most likely, never seeing my Ryan Ross again. The sun's beaming rays of light occasionally burned at my eyes. The birds chirp are obnoxiously loud in my ear and the sound of traffic dull and boring contributed to the fact that today is a normal day. I transfix my eyes on the stupid sunflowers, lightly swaying in the breeze, in the front yard yearning that this isn't happening.   

I'm so desperate at this point, I never thought it was going to be this difficult to let go of him, mostly because I don't want him gone. I grumble, roll my eyes, and gently lean my head on top of his. The sweet smell of his conditioner invades nose invoking the dull pain in my chest to gently subside. I sigh, once more acknowledging that I am pissing him off.  

My mouth is too dry to speak accompanying my forgotten vocabulary. I'm just not ready; I need Ryan in my life. He has saved me countless times and yet he is leaving me. I don't care that he claims 'he isn't going let us drift apart'. My ass. He is leaving me. I just don't know why.  

"Why, Ry?" I found myself saying, gaining the courage to speak. I deftly play with his brown locks of hair trying to not cry.  

His hair has always been so feathery and lax as it contorts to his lovely face, his complexion fair and his eyes grand and golden. Grasping my lifeline in his spindly fingers, cursing knowing he easily won me over. I've always been so jealous, I mean who wouldn't; he was perfect in every way, godly, even. With every shirt he put on his small figure is noticeable. The outline of his clavicle constantly demanding to be touched and loved whenever he put on his low cut tops. His hip bones slightly protrude whenever he raises his hands above his head with the peek of his waistband of his underwear when he wore low slung jeans. His frame always perfect and neat of any blemishes, beside the few bruises I give him the night before. He was just perfect in every way, free of any imperfections.

 His loose curls perfectly wrap around my fingers as I start swirling a piece around my index finger and thumb. His bed head is always the loveliest in my opinion, as he strongly disagrees as he always rolls his eyes when I bring up the subject of maybe wearing it messy more often, especially coupled with his adorable light snoring when he finally slumps against my chest after watching Disney movies late at night, him being a sucker for that Tangled movie.  

"Why are you leaving me? Did I do something wrong?" I blurted, groaning at myself for sounding like a frantic whiny bitch.

  I could almost feel Ryan roll his eyes as he shifted his weight on the velvet couch that he bought years back at a garage sale. The owner proclaimed that the color was 'Egyptian Blue' but we just smiled at her knowing it was just a dark blue couch. Ryan seemed to like the name of the couch though, always correcting his friends that the couch was, in fact, actually 'Egyptian Blue' not just dark blue. We would just smile and nod accepting that the couch was not an ordinary blue.  

I can hear his irritation rise in his throat as he begins to speak. "Brendon, it isn't you that did something you are perfect."  

He starts to maneuver his delicate and slender fingers to my chest and my heart to starts to flutter, holding back a low moan starting at the base of my throat. The way his hand flit and flitter across my chest to my hair as he tousles my fringe induces a slight moan depart from my lips, as give into his touch. His hands magic against me, and, for a split second I forget our argument.   

God, pull it together, I’m scared. I obviously did something wrong. He wouldn't just leave the band and, mostly likely, me for nothing. He can't get away with this bullshit he is going to tell me the truth.   I start to pull away but he just pushes himself against me as he begins to draw patterns on my shirt that I haven't changed in probably, a couple weeks. I grunt at him as he obliges to settle down he whispers, hot breathe tingling my ear, 

"You are so bangable when you are angry."

  I roll my eyes and he starts to laugh, filling the air with his melodic sound. I almost gasp at how he can just laugh off the fact that he is leaving me. I gulp down the lump in my throat.   I sputter my sentence and curse myself for being so emotional.

"Ryan," I drawl. "It is me isn't it. You don't like me anymore, do you?"   

He stops drawing pictures on my chest and moves his head off of my neck, irritation growing in his throat as he nearly barks out his sentence.  
   
"Brendon, shut up. It isn't you, I already told you this before now stop asking, please."  

My eyes start to sting again. I know it is me. I never was good enough for him. I mean I’m Brendon Urie and well, he is Ryan Ross. He is the one what every teenage girl swooned over. He was the heartthrob. He is too perfect for me.

  "Then why are you leaving the band? I mean we were just on tour not too long ago and you seemed fine!"  

Okay, I was getting kind of scared and whiny but so what. My Ryro is leaving me. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes rubbing at his temples. Finally regaining his composure he calmly reassures me.   

"We want different things, Brendon. You and Spence want a different sound for the next album but, me and Jon want something else."

  "But-" I started.  

"Seriously, Brendon I’m not leaving you, lovely. It is only Jon and I leaving the band. Everything is going to be fine, nothing is going to change between you and I, I promise. Please trust me, I love you, Brendon. Forever and always, my love."

  I couldn’t even decipher what he had said before I was assaulted with his lips against mine, clouding my thoughts with his ambrosial taste. Maybe he is right; maybe I’m just making a big deal about it, why would him leaving the band affect our personal relationship? I push my wavering thoughts towards the back of mind as move my hands to the crook of his neck, enjoying his kiss inviting him to explore further. But, as fast as his lips grazed mine he withdrew and a sudden rush of air skimmed my frame sending a shiver throughout. Previously pushed against his torso I felt oddly alone, an eerie feeling washing over me, and I slightly tremble over the sudden pressure. I lazily open my eyes attempting to not dwell on the feeling. A rush of light blinds me as I glimpse at his pouting face, standing arms crossed over his chest. His smirk splayed over his perfect features formerly where his pouting face was, as he gave up. I begin to smile as well and rise to my feet.  "Hungry." he whined.

A chuckle escapes my lips wrapping my arm around his petite waist leading him towards his bedroom. I briskly throw on a new button up shirt that he bought me a while back that I just never got around wearing. The fabric resembled those of green leaves during the month that followed spring. When the sun is the glowing, engulfing everyone and anything in it's path, summer, the most calm, in my opinion, of the seasons. He and I always stopped at our favorite ice cream venue enjoying the chilly desert as it cooled us down from the high temperatures.  
The shirt billowed over my ivory skin finally settling over my shoulder as we carried our feet to the earth toned entry, hands intertwined. One quick kiss and we were enveloped by the sun’s rays of light. Starting to our favorite place to eat, smiling from ear to ear, content that our lives were not going to change anytime soon.


End file.
